


The Dog Days Are Over

by Wolvesandwerewolves



Series: Guillotine - All for the Game [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:00:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolvesandwerewolves/pseuds/Wolvesandwerewolves
Summary: Andrew drives Neil home, contemplating murder and wondering why Neil understood him when no one else would. He wondered if he still would in the next few days. He wondered why it mattered.





	The Dog Days Are Over

  
Andrew sat in Tilda’s car, watching the storm clouds roll in slowly. In the distance, he thought he could hear thunder, see lightning, but it could just as easily have been his electric anticipation and not his reality. _A hallucination, that's all this was_.

Either way, he knew he didn't have much more time to plot. He wanted this to be done with within the next few days and he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity nature was giving him. But he also knew he couldn't just get Tilda in the car and crash it. He didn't want to leave anything to chance and if it didn't work, he couldn't afford to be blamed. He and Aaron's relationship was already stiff and he wasn't about to lose his brother—not when he was willing to destroy the world for him; not when he'd given up so much for him already. Not when he was giving up _this._

The passenger side door opened but Andrew couldn't draw his gaze away from the storm. From the corner of his eye, he could see Neil climbing in beside him, clutching two bags. He dug through one of them, then passed Andrew his preferred brand of cigarettes and a new lighter. Andrew reached for them without looking, his fingers brushing up against Neil's for the third time that night. He didn't seem to care.

“Food?”

“What do you want? I got cookies, candy and—” Neil frowned, holding something up out of the bag, “I'm not sure what this is.”

Andrew finally tore his gaze away and stared at Neil. At times, he wondered why Neil was the only one who _got it,_ the only one who bothered to listen to Andrew's answers and make sense of them. Other times, he marveled at his stupidity. “Cake pops,” he deadpanned, reaching for the container.

Neil looked skeptical. “Why not just have cake?”

“You don't like cake,” he answered, shoving two in his mouth at the same time.

“No,” Neil admitted. He handed Andrew some lemonade and unscrewed a bottle of water for himself.

Instead of answering, Andrew just pulled out of the parking lot, then onto the main road on his way to Neil's house. He'd been there a few times before, mostly to pick him up for extra Exy practice outside of regular team hours. In return, Neil taught him German. That was the deal.

For everything he knew about Neil, his house was disconcertingly homey. He knew the flowers in the garden and the pictures on the wall were Cora's touch, not his, but knowing that was almost as disorienting. She had a warm heart, but cold, calculating eyes. At first glance, she reminded him of Cass: sweet, motherly. After having met her once, she reminded him of Neil and of himself: cautious, steely, with a hidden hint of ruthlessness—he suspected she would be willing to sacrifice everything for her goals, for Neil. He grudgingly respected her.

But she worked for the FBI and her presence was almost as dangerous as her son's was. He always knew the crimes he would be willing to commit for Aaron, and stayed out of her way as much as possible. He wasn't sure if she would understand or care for his motives. Even if she wasn't an investigator, even though she would have no jurisdiction, she had contacts and she was unpredictable in that she was like Andrew: dangerous. He wondered why her adoptive son was any different.

He wondered if Neil really was any different. He knew there was something in his eyes that spoke of selfishness, of past crimes or deeds that maybe matched up with Andrew's— _desperate, gasping survival, hard determination and callous disregard for any consequences or victims_ —but so far, the only thing Neil seemed to want from him was his time on a court. It was at once relieving and aggravating. Whatever was in his eyes, he seemed determined to bury in the past or in discarded cigarettes and quiet, insignificant truths, answers to the questions Andrew wasn't asking. He mostly talked of exy, as if that was the only thing he wanted from life, from Andrew.

Andrew wished he didn't want anything from Neil.

Neil broke his train of thoughts by speaking up. “Do you have any plans for the summer?”

 _Planning Tilda's funeral, if not his own. Forcing Aaron off the drugs, helping him through withdrawals. Either getting emancipated or getting Luther out of the picture._ “No.”

“Do you want any?”

Andrew thought again of their fingers brushing when trading cigarettes, of the way Neil listened to him, how he laughed viciously whenever he scored with Andrew, and how Andrew never wanted to _want_ anything for himself; not after Cass, not after Drake. “No.”

Neil continued talking, unperturbed in the least. “Cora's been talking about helping me learn another language before I graduate high school. She wants me to be able to go anywhere I want. But I've been stuck in the same place for three years and even if I wanted to run, I'm not sure how to move anymore.”

While Andrew didn't know what that had to do with his summer, he nodded. He was loathe to admit it, but juvie felt much the same. He was in there for less than three years, but the routine was familiar, soothing. Outside was unknown and threatening; Drake was outside, fear and sweat; Cass, or another family all over again, loving and ignorant. He hadn't wanted to admit it at the time, but Aaron was the only (good) option and that was as unpredictable (or worse: predictable) as sleepy footsteps outside an unlocked bedroom door in the middle of the night. He almost wanted to stay in Juvie, as much as he hated it. Instead, he gave up his life for Aaron for a second time and deliberately did not think that he was better off for it. _Even if he was._

“The teachers in my junior classes are trying to prepare us for senior year and college. It’s a future I've never wanted, but Aaron seems determined, when he's sober.”

“You could probably both get in on a sports scholarship.” Exy again. He wasn't surprised. “I think I'd like to try for languages—I already know French, German and Spanish, for the most part. I could be a translator, like Cora, and she'd help.”

Neil never ceased to surprise Andrew. He hated surprises and he was sure he hated Neil at least 20% of the time, especially when he talked about fucking _exy_ , but he was so _interesting_ that he felt a dozen other things as well. He almost didn't want to figure out what they were. "You wouldn't try for an exy scholarship? I thought you were addicted.”

Neil shrugged, obviously uncomfortable, and looked out the window. “It's not a good idea,” he said darkly.

Interesting. Andrew slotted that piece of information away for later. Not like he'd forget it.

“Is anything, with you?”

“Thanks, Andrew.”

Alright, he hated him 22% of the time. “Don't mention it.”

They were quiet again, until they reached Neil’s house. Andrew parked in the driveway, staring at Neil as he unpacked the food from the grocery bag and handed each thing over, leaving granola bars and the like for himself. His dark red hair was left in tangled curls framing his face. It was dark, but the porch light turned on when they pulled in, highlighting his blue eyes. Andrew didn't know why, but after enough time spent with Neil, it was obvious he hated his reflection. Andrew on the other hand, did not.

He took it all in, Neil's curly red hair, barely there freckles, the smell of lingering smoke becoming stale. This was probably the last bit of peace he would get for the last few days.

Finally, Neil looked up at him. He didn't seem surprised to find Andrew staring, nor did he care. His lips twitched up as he stared back but didn't make any move to go inside.

“You can come in, if you want,” he said. “If you don't want to go back to Tilda's yet. Cora won't care.”

  
Andrew shook his head. “They'll be wondering where I am.”

“Okay. I'll see you tomorrow?”

Andrew wasn't so sure, but he couldn't say that. Instead, he spoke up before he lost his nerve.

“Neil.”

Neil turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He held his gaze steady for a few seconds, wanting to be sure for both of them. “Yes or no?”

Neil frowned, thoughtful of the question and maybe the motive. He carefully eyed Andrew up and down before returning the stare. He was curious, but not cautious; he trusted Andrew. Eventually, he shrugged and nodded.

“Yes.”

Andrew leaned forward, slowly enough for Neil to move away if he wanted. He didn't. He kept his gaze locked onto to his blue eyes and paused, inches from his face.

“Yes or no?” he asked again.

“Yes.” Neil's voice was quiet, but steady and he didn't move away as Andrew leaned in and pressed his lips forcefully against his.  
He didn't want to think, but he couldn't help but wonder if whatever tomorrow brought was worth this moment; or if this moment was worth tomorrow.

 _It is_ , he thought. _Aaron's worth it. This is nothing._

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, Andrew is TAKEN. HE IS CRUSHIN'. Who wouldn't be, though? 
> 
> Anyways, Andrew is a bit softer here than in canon. In my mind, this is his new life, he has a fresh start and right at the beginning of becoming Andrew Minyard, there was Neil to puzzle over. And Neil understood him and didn't make him feel like a monster, so everything else is unimportant--Luther, school, everything but Aaron. Anyways I'm rambling and i love these boys. 
> 
> I hope you like this one! Please comment your fav book quotes. This one didn't have any. Whoops. The next one will.


End file.
